The problem with followers of Bay Area sports is that they don't take 'em seriously enough.

Except for you parents of Little Leaguers who are destined for major-league stardom. You folks are taking the whole sports thing seriously enough. Congratulations.

By comparison, those of us who follow pro sports are slackers. We admire our favorite players, sometimes to the point of worship. But we don't go far enough.

Take Bob Melvin, for instance. The manager of the A's is being touted by many as American League Manager of the Year. Really? That's all? The man has taken the Sally League All-Stars to the brink of the AL playoffs and all you want to give him is a plaque?

The answer is sainthood. Churches do this. They identify people to be commemorated or venerated as inspirations to others of their faith. Our faith, in this case, is sports.

I'm guessing Melvin would be more flattered by being canonized as a Bay Area Sports Saint (BASS) than by winning a cheesy annual award.

If we're going to canonize people, who should they be? I'm not qualified to bestow sainthood, but here are some of the active folks who should be presented to the selection committee, once it is formed:

(Disclaimer: I don't advocate praying to any of these people for personal favors like please-heal-my-flat-tire, or sending them burnt offerings, not even Cajun-style. Sports saints are not meant to supersede the religious saints you already honor. I don't want to put any churches out of business, OK?)

Some churches require two miracles from a saint candidate. Done. Stanford and the 49ers.

Fans have taken to calling Harbaugh "The Second Coming." Again, I'm not comfortable with encroaching on real religion, in case You Know Who is, uh, vengeful. Maybe we can refer to Harbaugh as the Second 49ers' Coach Who Worked a Miracle.

Bob Melvin: He's not the greatest manager in A's history. No, he is the greatest manager in baseball history.

I am of the belief that baseball managers don't make much difference in the standings. Reasonable competence tends to be seen as genius if the team wins.

But Melvin has facilitated some crazy-good chemistry in Oakland, exerting just the right touch with the weird blend of vets and babies. Excellent manager, and if the team moves into the second round, hello St. BoMel.

Alex Smith: Several miracles on his resume. One, he survived, and to an extent helped eradicate, Mike Nolan and Mike Singletary, paving the way for Saint Jim.

Two, the touchdown pass to Vernon Davis against the Saints. Three, an emergence this season as a bull's-eye passer in the Brees-Rodgers-Manning mold, after being someone who could not win a stuffed animal at the county fair.

Buster Posey: History's first Saint Buster?

It's hard to be a BASS when you haven't yet played an entire season of big-league ball, but there he is. Without him, the Giants are dead. In Bustah, we trusta.

The Giants don't win without him in 2010 and they don't go anywhere without him this season.

Never mind that two of the Giants' starters don't like pitching to Posey. Most of us see him as saint material.

Justin Smith: The biggest team in the Bay Area is the 49ers, and the heart of the 49ers is the defense, and the heart of the defense, with all due love to Patrick Willis, is Justin Smith.

For one thing, Smith is two men, which is miraculous. Opposing offenses find it necessary to devote two of their men to dealing with Smith. If there are two players the 49ers can't afford to lose, they are St. Justin-squared.

Billy Beane: This one will be debated by theologians. Did the A's become surprise contenders because of Beane's general managing, or in spite of it? A lot of luck was involved, for sure. In Billy's favor here is that if he is canonized, there will be a movie and he will be played by Charlton Heston. Heston's dead? Never mind.

Tim Lincecum: St. Timmy was defrocked early this season, then re-frocked after the All-Star break. In any event, two Cys and a World Series ring put him in good shape, saint-wise.

Jed York: I'm not big on sports sainthood for team owners, but Jed hired Harbaugh, and Jed is building a stadium. That makes him the patron saint of cool moves.

Lew Wolff: The A's co-owner has made Bud Selig disappear. But that's not really a saintly miracle, it's more like a magic trick.